


Pretty With a Pistol

by veleda_k



Category: White Collar
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Girl Saves Boy, Girls with Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veleda_k/pseuds/veleda_k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Neal's in trouble, Mozzie plays getaway driver, a truce is reached, and Kate gets to be a big damn hero. Set pre-series.</p><p>Written for 10Tropes on Dreamwidth. The trope was "distressed dude."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty With a Pistol

Kate and Mozzie split up in front of the condemned building, and she speeds down the hallway. Kate knows that Mozzie would rather it be him in her place, but they're going to need a getaway vehicle, and Kate and Mozzie both know that he can hotwire a car in a third of the time it would take her. 

Part of Mozzie's reluctance is understandable. Neal is his best friend, so of course he doesn't want to leave Neal in his hour of need, no matter how good the reason is. But part of it, Kate knows, is that Mozzie doesn't want to leave Neal's fate in her hands. Not because he suspects she'll betray them—at least, no more than he suspects anyone will betray them—but because he doesn't believe she's up to the task. Ever since she came on board, Mozzie has been loathe to view her as anything more than Neal's hanger-on. He tolerates her because Neal wouldn't have it any other way, but she can tell that he resents her presence. She cornered him one afternoon and told him to get over whatever possessive complex he has towards Neal. A bad idea in retrospect, as it hadn't helped, to say the least. She could talk to Neal about it, but she'd feel like a little kid tattling on classmate. Besides, Neal would only get the perplexed, slightly wounded look he gets whenever he can't figure out why his two favorite people aren't getting along. 

Whatever Mozzie's doubts about her, however, he's a professional and Neal's true friend. So, when it became clear that Kate going in would be Neal's best chance for survival, he had relented without protest. Which is why Kate is currently racing down a moldering hallway, wincing as the gun she has tucked into her waistband digs into her side. 

Kate's not sure about the gun. She knows the basics, she's shot at targets, and she certainly didn't protest when Mozzie handed it to her, but she doesn't know how she'll feel pointing it at a living person. However she reacts, though, there's no way she's facing Big Tony unarmed.

Big Tony is the current thorn in their side, a small time mobster who decided that Kate, Neal, and Mozzie were intruding on his territory, and managed to corner Neal while the three of them were separated. Kate has decided—and she's sure the other two would agree—that Big Tony's name is stupid, and that in a fair and just world, a high class team like theirs wouldn't even be on his insignificant radar.

Caught up in worry, she nearly runs past the correct door. Backtracking slightly, she listens closely, and, yes, despite being muffled by the door, she can definitely hear the distinctive sound of fists on flesh. Feeling slightly sick, she stops herself from barging in. Going in half-cocked isn't going to help anyone, and Neal's probably not going to die in the next fifteen seconds.

She really doesn't like that "probably."

Kate gently pushes the door open and steps quietly into the room. She counts herself lucky that the hinges don't squeak too loudly despite the building's general disrepair. Not that Big Tony seems likely to notice. His attention is on his captive as he launches a particularly vicious kick into Neal's stomach.

Neal's a mess of blood and bruises, and his breathing is labored. But breathing of any kind means he's not dead. Kate gets the gun out and takes the safety off. It turns out she feels pretty good about pointing a gun at a living person. "Get away from him, Tony." Her voice is cold and hard, with nary a quaver. In some distant part of her mind, she's proud of that. 

Big Tony takes a break from attacking Neal to look her up and down. He grins nastily. "Get the fuck out of here, sweetheart. Daddy can play with you later."

Kate shoots him. Big Tony comes crashing down, his hands desperately trying to staunch the blood flowing from his foot. Kate really doesn't want him following them, so she shoots him in the other foot. Then she puts the safety back on and returns the gun to her waistband before hurrying to Neal. "Hey, baby," she says softly.

Neal looks blearily up at her. "Kate?"

She nods. "It's me." She starts to help him to his feet. "We have to go. Now." Neal nods, and after a couple of tries, they manage to get him standing up.

"What's that awful noise?" Neal asks as she leads him out the door.

"I shot Big Tony."

"Oh."

Their progress is slow, and Neal is equal parts stumbling forward and being dragged. Kate is growing steadily more anxious. Lucky for them, Neal's tendency to act like he knows more than he does worked in his favor again. Big Tony had been convinced that Neal was privy to some extremely sensitive information, the kind that Big Tony didn't want his hired goons overhearing. He had sent his men away, sacrificing security for privacy. However, Kate knows they have to be nearby, and it won't take Big Tony long to call them. Even if he's not able to form coherent sentences, the screaming will get the message across.

"We need to move faster, Neal." She tries to keep the irritation out of her voice, as it's not Neal's fault he can barely move, but with the thought of half a dozen armed men closing in on them, it's hard not to feel frustrated by their lack of progress. 

Traitorously, Kate wonders what her chances would be if she went on alone. It's not a very nice thought, made uglier by the fact that Neal would never for a moment consider leaving her. But Kate's tired and afraid, and she doesn't want to die.

She shakes her head. "Can you go any faster, baby?" she asks as gently as she can. "Can you do that for me?" That gets a response, and Neal does speed up just a bit, though it's obvious the effort is painful.

She's not going to leave him. Because he'd cut his own arm off before abandoning her, because she'd have to explain herself to Mozzie, and because in spite of every bit of common sense she possesses, she loves him.

It isn't a long hallway, but it feels like an eternity before they reach the door. It's not easy to open the door without dropping Neal, but Kate manages. Once they're outside, she looks around the empty street uneasily. No goons with guns, but no Mozzie either. 

Just as Kate is beginning to panic, a car comes roaring down the street. She tenses, then relaxes as she sees Mozzie at the wheel.

"Hurry up!" He shouts as he reaches behind to open the passenger door.

"No, I was going to go at a leisurely pace," Kate mutters. She starts to maneuver Neal into the car, when something out of the corner of her eye makes her turn. "Shit." _There_ are the goons with guns. Forgoing gentleness, she shoves Neal into the car before leaping in after him. A bullet whizzes past her, right where she was standing only a second ago, and she can't hold back a shriek. "Drive, drive, drive!"

"That's the idea," Mozzie replies as he wheels away. 

Kate takes a moment to catch her breath. Her job was to get Neal out of there, and she did it. It's up to Mozzie now. She looks down at Neal, who's groaning in an alarming way. She frowns. All of that jostling can't have been good for his injuries. She shifts them so that his head is on her lap. "It's all right, baby. You’re going to be okay. You're safe now." She's not sure if any of that is true, but it seems like the right thing to say. Neal doesn't respond. He's pretty out of it, and while that worries her, it's probably for the best. Neal's a nervous passenger at the best of times, and Mozzie's pulling out all the stops. Between the speed and the turns Kate can hardly keep Neal and herself steady. Great, she thinks, we've escaped the angry mobsters, only to die in a flaming car wreck. She clamps down on the urge to snap at Mozzie. The most important thing is evading pursuit, and Mozzie knows what he's doing. 

"I've found us new accommodations," Mozzie says calmly. Kate nods. Big Tony's no genius, but his men are thorough. It's not safe to go back to their hotel room. Which means leaving leaving everything behind that's in the hotel room. It's not the end of world, everything truly important to them is stashed in a storage container halfway across town. But Kate had left her favorite pair of earrings next to hotel room sink. Strange, the things you think in a crisis. "I've also made arrangements to get out of town," Mozzie continues. "By this time tomorrow, we'll be in Boston."

Kate lets out a sight of relief. A safe place to go and an escape plan. In that moment, Kate can't believe she's ever thought a single bad thing about Mozzie. "Thanks, Moz."

"No problem. What happened with Big Tony?"

"I shot him," Kate replies flatly. "Twice."

"Ah. Is he dead?"

"I doubt it. I shot him in the feet."

Mozzie's only response to that is a noncommittal "hmm," and Kate wishes she could see his face. 

Mozzie pulls into the parking lot of decrepit motel. He must see her expression in the rear view mirror, because he shrugs. "It has a roof and a bed, and I didn't have a lot of time."

"It's fine, Moz," she tells him, and she means it. However, once again she thinks that it might be better for Neal that he's barely conscious. Mozzie goes to get the keys to their room, and when he gets back they work together to get Neal up the stairs. (Of course there would be stairs, Kate thinks.)

Once they get him in the room and on the bed, Mozzie steps back. "I'm going to get some supplies." Kate nods, not looking at him. "Kate." She turns her head. "Today... good job."

Kate looks into his eyes and sees something new there, if not respect, at least willingness to consider that she's more than Neal's arm candy. It appears they've surprised each other today. "Thanks. You too."

"I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Sure." And then it's just Neal and her in a dingy hotel room. "Neal," she whispers. When she doesn't get a response, she stands up. "I'm going to get you some ice," she tells him needlessly. Of course, when she finds the ice machine, the thing is broken. Kicking it is pointless and juvenile, but Kate does it anyway. The whole idea is useless anyway. Neal's covered in bruises and blood, and he probably has a concussion. He doesn't need ice, he needs a hospital. Which isn't an option right now. Hospitals ask too many questions, and their aliases aren't up to withstanding that sort of scrutiny.

Right then, Kate longs for her old life, back when she was an ordinary, law abiding citizen. Back when she could take her boyfriend to the hospital if she needed to. 

None of that is going to get her anywhere, so she goes back to the room and, lacking ice or bandages, soaks some towels in cold water.

Neal opens his eyes slightly when she puts the cool, wet cloth against his skin. "Kate?" His voice is rough. 

"I'm here. How are you feeling?" It's a really stupid question, and she knows it. 

"Bad," he admits. "Big Tony?"

He doesn't remember. Kate's not sure if that's bad or not. It could be head trauma, or it could be the fact that it's been a incredibly chaotic, trying day. "I shot him, remember? He's not dead," she assures him, though she can't be sure of that. 

"Oh."

"I didn't have a choice," she points defensively. "He was going to kill you."

"I know." He gives her a weak smile. "You were so brave."

She looks down. "I was really scared."

"Me too." He sighs and closes his eyes. "Sorry. I'm not much company right now."

She scoffs. "Right, because after you've been beaten half to death, I absolutely expect you to entertain me."

He doesn't respond, and when his breathing deepens, Kate figures he's fallen asleep. 

She paces around the room because there's nothing else to do. Her books and sketchpad are back at the old room, and even if the TV works, which she doubts, she doesn't want to risk waking Neal.

She thinks about Neal's reaction when she told him she shot Big Tony. She knows she was right, and she's sure than Neal knows it too, but she can't help worrying that this will change how he sees her. She knows that Neal hates guns. He never left the room back when Mozzie was teaching her the basics, but he had always very discernibly been doing something else—reading, painting, whatever. Kate doesn't know what's behind it, and she hasn't asked. If he wants her to know, he'll tell her. 

A knock at the door shakes Kate out of her thoughts. The knock's in iambic pentameter, so she's not surprised when Mozzie walks in carrying a first aid kit, some food, and a sleeping bag. She takes the kit gratefully. Mozzie sets out the sleeping bag. "I only had time to grab one, so if Neal's a lousy bed mate tonight, you're stuck with him."

Kate looks at him. She's very familiar with Mozzie's rants on proper lower back support. She's never known him to sleep on the floor when other options were available. She meets his eyes. She's not sure if this is meant to be an apology or a thank you, but something has changed between them. She's not so naïve as to think that everything is now okay between her and Mozzie. He's possessive and mistrusting, and she's no saint either. But they're not enemies anymore. 

With a brief nod at Mozzie, Kate rummages through the first aid kit until she finds a bottle of Vicoden. Shaking some out, she brings them and a paper cup of water over to the bed. "Neal." She touches his shoulder gently, trying to avoid the worst of the bruising.

His eyelids flutter open. "Hey."

Kate hands him the pills and the water. "Sorry to wake you, but you should take these. They'll help with the pain." She helps steady him as he drinks. "Tomorrow we'll get you some help." Not a proper doctor, however much she wishes it. One of Mozzie's contacts, no doubt. She's not sure how they'll pay for that, now that this job's gone down in flames, but they'll think of something.

Neal nods. He's quiet, and Kate thinks he's gone back to sleep until he opens his eyes and looks at her. "Sit with me?" Kate settles on the bed and takes his hand. "Thank you... for today." He looks at her with such devotion and gratitude that Kate can't believe she ever thought his feelings for her might change. If she can believe anything for certain in this screwed up world, then she can believe in Neal's love.

She kisses him softly. "You'd have done the same for me." He smiles and nods, and soon he's asleep again, still holding her hand. Sitting up in bed with her clothes on, with Neal holding on to her, Kate knows there's no way she can fall asleep. However, she figures that almost dying has earned Neal a little clinginess.

The two of them stay that way for a long time, hands entwined.


End file.
